


I'll Write Something for You

by Saya087



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Crushes, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Finding love in the Apocalypse, Slight Canon Divergence, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Teen Romance, Teenage Rebellion, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-23 07:38:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6109735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saya087/pseuds/Saya087
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alicia feels sorry for Chris after his mom is taken away by the military to the hospital. She tries to cheer him up and mask her own pain at the same by getting them drunk. Somewhat follows the events of the Cobalt episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The World is Full Smashable Goodies Now

**Author's Note:**

> The world needs more AliciaxChris Fictions. There is currently a pitifully small amount out there, at least from what I could find. Not sure how long this will be yet and I don't think it'll get to the length of my Bethyl fiction, but we'll see. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Alicia pressed the champagne bottle to her lips, her fingers leaving prints on the dusty green bottle. Across from her, Chris watched her nervously with his hands in his pockets. She giggled as the alcohol sent up a rush of giddiness as it wrapped her brain in a protective plastic bubble. She took another long swig. Soon everything would be forgotten, the soldiers outside, the shit going on with Nick and with Chris' mom, the fact that her own mom and that crazy old Salvadorian man had a soldier tied up in the basement and were torturing him, Su Su's suicide note, and most of all, the image of Matt covered in sweat and lolling around in his bed while he waited to die—no while he waited to become one of those _things_.

She turned the music up louder and swayed on her feet to some horrible 80's pop song. That was all these people had on their iPod—crap 80's music, but she was getting wasted and it all sounded fucking fantastic to her right at this moment. She squeezed her eyes shut and downed another huge gulp. She turned the music up louder still. Chris was shouting at her over the racket. She had no idea what he was saying. His brow was furrowed, but not in an angry way, maybe concerned would've been a more fitting description. He slipped past her and turned the music back down to a reasonable volume. She suddenly remembered that she hadn't offered Chris a drink at all and the bottle was half empty all ready.

“Whoops! Where are my manners?” she laughed, stretching her arm out towards him.

Chris shot a glance out the broken bay window at the front of the house and then back to Alicia. He looked at the bottle hesitantly.

“I don't know,” he muttered.

“You've never been drunk, before I bet,” she laughed, stepping forward so there was only about a foot of space between them.

“We're gonna have to head back soon. It's already getting late. It'll be dark in a few hours.”

“C'mon, Chris, now's not the time to be responsible,” she groaned, thrusting the bottle into his hands.

She studied his expression. He still had that damned sad puppy dog look he had earlier today when she had ridden up to him on her bike and convinced him to come here with her.

“Come on, it'll take your mind off things. A little won't hurt. You won't get too drunk,” she promised.

The troubled look rolled over his face again and she guessed he was probably thinking about his mom. He grabbed the bottle and raised it to his lips. He scrunched up his face as he swallowed. They passed the bottle back and forth for a few minutes until it was gone. She glanced between the tiled fireplace and the bottle and then smashed it as hard as she could onto the hearth. Chris blinked at her and gave a little smile.

He was actually kind of cute when he smiled. It made his dark eyes glisten for a few seconds as it flashed across his face. She reached up onto the mantle and snatched up a ridiculously large emerald green glass egg and tossed it to him. He fumbled to catch it and turned it over in his fingers before pulling it back over his shoulder. Alicia stepped to the side and he smashed it against the hearth. They smiled at each other, big impish grins. Alicia cranked the music back up and took out two golf clubs from the bag next to the fireplace and tossed one to Chris. She swung it behind her head and brought it down into the mirror that hung above the mantle. She could see Chris in the cracked glass behind her beating the shit out of a set of little precious angel figurines with his club.

When they ran out of stuff to break in the living room, they moved on to the kitchen. She hit up the liquor cabinet in the dinning room first though. Literally hit it, with the golf club. She reached in through the broken glass and took out an expensive looking bottle of whisky, probably something that was only to be served on the fanciest occasions, like their son getting accepted into Yale Law School. Something they never would have dreamed would end up surging up the throat of a seventeen year old girl to cover one of their beaded little throw pillows in the other room after all the alcohol had made her so dizzy that she couldn't breathe or think.

Alicia took a carefully measured drink to get a taste of it before taking a bigger swig. It was woodsy and smooth, not like the cheap shit she was used to drinking at Matt's parties.

“How is it?” Chris asked.

“See for yourself,” she told him, passing him the bottle.

He took a more audacious drink than he had when she first passed him the champagne and he didn't scrunch up his face this time.

“Hmm. I like it. Makes me feel classy,” he said, taking another drink.

“Hey, save some for me, darling,” she laughed, hooking her arm around the back of his neck to usher him into the kitchen.

The room was spotless except for a thin layer of dust. The gray granite countertops still gleamed even with the dust. A large island stood in the center of the room and above it hung a small crystal chandelier. At the far end of the room a dark wood glass-fronted cabinet stood near a door that probably led out to a patio.

They went for the cabinet first as it was filled with all kinds of smashable goodies—fine china, glass plates, crystal goblets, platters ringed with gold leafing. Alicia picked up a crystal wine glass and tossed it up in the air. As it came back down she tried to hit it with her golf club before it could hit the floor. She missed though and the glass shattered on the tiles. Chris tried with another glass, but he failed more miserably than she had.

“Let me guess, you weren't on the varsity baseball team,” she teased.

“Let me guess, you weren't on the varsity softball team,” he taunted back at her.

“Nope. Sports weren't my thing. I was vice president of the drama club though and last year I had the lead in the school production of MacBeth. Well not lead really, but close,” she told him.

“Yeah? That's cool I guess. I started the film club at my school. We were always looking for theater kids to act for us.”

“Too bad the world ended. Maybe we coulda made the next Youtube viral hit together,” she said it with a laugh, but the sound stung her throat as it pushed its way up from her chest.

“Sucks,” he agreed, “My camera still has enough battery left to film a couple more hours worth of stuff. Maybe we can still make something and once all this gets fixed and the internet's back up we can post it. Maybe we'll get jobs in Hollywood. I mean, the pool of actors and directors has got to be thinned out because of all this shit.”

“What kind of movie would we make?” she asked.

“Dunno yet. I'll work on it. I'll write something for you. What are you good at? Comedy? Drama? Horror? A little of all three?”

“Drama. Something sad,” she said.

She looked down at her worn tennis shoes. Out the corner of her eyes she could tell he was studying her face. After what seemed like twenty minutes, he nodded.

“You got it. I'll get started on it tomorrow. I think I have a few ideas.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Don't want to spoil it for you, but it might involve dinosaurs or aliens.”

“Are you going to make me play a suicidal dinosaur?”

He laughed at that, “No way. That's amateurish.”

Her stomach settled and she was feeling a little better now. They headed upstairs next to see what other objects they could break. Chris pulled open the french doors that led to the master bedroom. A massive king sized bed with dark wood head and foot boards stood in front of a wall of windows. The bed was covered with a fluffy sunshine yellow comforter and about fifty pillows. A large vanity table with a big round mirror was pushed to one side of the room. The dusty surface was covered in makeup and perfume. It stood next to a folding white wood slated door that led into a walk-in closet that could have come straight out of one of those movies where they had a fashion montage where the character tries on two hundred outfits in thirty seconds.

Across the room, Chris let out a soft, “Whoa!” and she turned to see he had discovered a matching walk-in closet filled with men's clothes. She moved inside the closet. Her head was spinning trying to decide what to try on first. She closed the door a little bit, but not all the way. Chris was busy exploring the closet on the opposite side of the room anyways. She stripped down to her bra and panties and began ripping clothes from the wooden hangers.

She tried a few cute sequined tank tops first, a pale pink one and a red one. There were tons of silk blouses and two hundred dollar pairs of jeans, but the evening gowns caught her eye the most. She tried on a few, but they were a bit big in the chest. She guessed the woman that owned them probably had fake tits. She kicked off the dress she had on and took another swig of whisky as she stood there in her underwear in front of the mirror.

Alicia nearly spit the drink out everywhere when she saw Chris' face in the mirror behind her. He was frozen. His mouth was hanging open a bit. Her first instinct was to cover herself or duck to the side out of his view, but something about the way he was staring with that starstruck gaze gave her a fluttering feeling in her stomach.

_Does it really matter anyways? He would have been my step brother if our parents had gotten a chance to get engaged and get married before all this shit went down._

Instead, she bent over slowly and unapologetically and stepped into the sparkly black floor length dress she had been planning on trying next. This one was a better fit. It was tighter around her breasts and had an open back. She unhooked her bra and removed it. The front of the dress had padded cups between the deep v neck that plunged almost to her bellybutton. She admired herself in the mirror a few times before remerging into the bedroom.

Chris was no where to be seen now, but she could hear clothes being thrown around in the closet across the room. She sat down at the vanity and spritzed on some perfume that smelled musky and spicy. She went through the tubes of lipstick until she found a vibrant red and swiped it across her lips. Chris was watching her in the mirror again. He was standing near the foot of the bed, fiddling with a tie. He had put on a white button down shirt and a black suit jacket that was slightly too big for his slender frame.

Alicia turned around to face him, debating whether she wanted to give him shit for watching her dressing earlier. He swore as he fumbled pitifully with the tie and she felt sorry for him.

“Come here, Chris,” she sighed.

He looked up at her and his face turned red. She couldn't tell if it was from his embarrassment of not being able to tie the tie or from her catching him looking at her. He moved closer and put his hands down at his sides. His lips were down turned and she felt depressed just looking at him, so she focused on the black silk tie. She knotted it and pulled it tight, brushing her fingers over the exposed skin on his neck before she put her hands down.

“You look like you could use another drink,” she told him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Chris sat next to her and she reached for the bottle where it lay on the night stand. He nodded and tipped his head back draining a good amount. She took one last drink before she set it back down on the night stand and flopped onto the bed. Chris squeezed in next to her and she scooted over to make room.

“Do you think they're ok? My mom and Nick?” Chris asked.

“I don't know. I don't know anymore, Chris,” she said.

It was the truth. She supposed she could have lied, could have told him everything was going to be ok, that those army assholes would probably bring his mom and her brother back in a few days and everyone would go on their merry way. She didn't believe that anymore. The world had changed and she was trying to force herself to accept that.

“I don't know what I'm gonna do if she doesn't come back,” Chris told her.

She didn't want to promise him anything. She didn't have much hope Nick would come back alive either. Her hand dug around the sheets next to her until it brushed against the warm smoothness of his and she laced her fingers through his. His fingers twitched for a second as if he was trying to rapidly make up his mind whether or not to pull away. His fingers relaxed and curled around hers.

“Hey, they'll come back. And if they don't we'll get them back. My mom and your dad may be a couple of bumbling idiots, but they've got the help of that old dude, Daniel. He seems crafty. I bet he'll figure something out,” she tried to reassure him, although her words felt hollow.

“You're right. Daniel's a cool guy. He won't let anything happen to his wife and I'm sure he'll help my mom and your brother.”

His hopefulness made her smile, but inside she felt her heart being crushed because she couldn't hold onto the same faith that everything would be alright.

The room was slowly darkening, turning the pale lavender wallpaper a stormy grayish color. Everything was spinning. She draped her free arm over her eyes to block out the little remaining light. Her stomach felt like she was barreling up and down hills on a roller coaster. Next to her Chris groaned and she could guess he felt the same. They should go back downstairs and head home before it got darker, but she didn't think she could make the walk without falling on her ass and Chris was in no state to help her. They should really sober up more before they faced their parents anyway. They were clueless, but they would probably notice if she and Chris came stumbling in reeking of whisky and vomit.

Alicia must have passed out because when she opened her eyes the room was pitch black. Her stomach gave a violent lurch and she untangled her fingers from Chris' and scrambled over him where he lay asleep in the bed next to her. He mumbled something as he sat up. Alicia couldn't remember where the bathroom was and it was too dark to see a damn thing so she stumbled to the corner and fell to her knees.

Chris was mumbling something from the bed. He stumbled across the room and found her in the darkness. He ran his hands up her naked back until they found her hair which he gathered up and moved out of the way. He held her hair out of the way while she vomited and rubbed her back with his other hand all while muttering words of comfort.

Her throat burned as everything she ate and drank that day came surging up. She had sobered quite a bit during her sleep and the icy cold fingers of reality were wrapping around her throat once again. Matt was dead. Su Su was dead. Nick was probably dead or soon to be. They all were probably going to be dead because her mom and Chris' dad couldn't do a damn thing to protect them. When she finished, she wiped her face on one of the bed pillows and let it drop into the puddle of vomit with a sickly splat.

When she turned around to face Chris, she was sobbing. He rubbed his hands up and down her upper arms.

“Hey, come on now. You said it yourself earlier. They're going to be alright,” he reminded her.

A flash of anger shot through her. She had only said it because she was drunk and he was sad and it was killing her buzz.

His arms encircled her in the darkness. She considered shoving him away, but her arms were shaking after puking her guts out. She couldn't remember the last time someone had held her. It must have been weeks ago, before Matt got sick. So instead of shoving him away, she wrapped her arms around his back and buried her face in his chest. His heart thudded in her ear. She thought it sounded a bit faster than it should have, but she couldn't be sure.

The sound of glass breaking downstairs caused them both to jump and push away from each other.

“Looks like someone's been in here! Was all this shit broken before?” a man's voice yelled from downstairs.

Alicia looked at the faint outline of Chris that was visible in the dark. His fingers closed around her wrist and together they crept into the walk-in closet and slipped behind the row of evening dresses. Her pulse was pounding in her wrist where his fingers still gripped her.

“Must have got shot up when they cleared this place last week,” another voice answered.

“Don't matter this whole neighborhood will be obliterated in a few days,” yet another voice said.

Glass crunched under boots and they strained their ears trying to tell if the sound was getting closer or further away. After what seemed like hours of sitting in silence, they slowly and carefully emerged from the closet. The house was dark and nothing stirred.

They walked back up the street, Alicia still swaying slightly on her feet. The moon was out and it was full, providing them with a good amount of light. Chris kept shooting her worried glances every few seconds. She guessed he was trying to decide if she was still too drunk to return home and concerned that he would get yelled at if he showed up with her reeking of alcohol.

"What do you think they meant by 'obliterated in a few days'?" he asked nervously.

"Dunno, but it doesn't sound good, does it? We should tell our parents."

"Ha. Like my dad will listen to anything," Chris grumbled.

"You're right. They never fucking listen. I bet they didn't even notice we were gone all day."

The lights in the house were out when they climbed up the porch railing onto the roof outside of Alicia's bedroom. She listened at the door and could hear quiet voices talking a few doors down in her mom's bedroom. She turned to Chris and shook her head.

“They're still up. Might want to wait a bit,” she told him.

He would have to pass her mom's room to get to Nick's bedroom where he had been camped out. She fell back onto her bed and the springs squeaked—that familiar comforting sound. A few minutes later, Chris flopped down at the opposite end of the bed, swinging his feet up next to her head.

“Ewww, I don't want your stinky feet in my face,” Alicia complained.

“Fine,” he grumbled. He sat up and turned around so his head was next to hers, “Better?”

She nodded and stared into his eyes for a minute. He looked back at her curiously. She wasn't sure what she saw there and he seemed to have the same uncertainty about whatever he was seeing in her eyes. The awkwardness soon became too much to bear and she rolled onto her side, facing the door. The bed shook as he rolled over too and she felt his shoulder blades brush against hers.

“Wake me when they're done talking,” he mumbled sleepily.

“Sure,” she muttered. She threw her arm over her eyes and passed out.

 


	2. Matt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so very sorry this is just now being posted! I was truly hoping to have another chapter done weeks ago.

Chris was up and wandering around her room when Alicia woke up the next morning. There was a throbbing pain behind her eyes, but it wasn't as bad as the one in her heart and the anxiety that was twisting her stomach into knots.

“What time is it?” she mumbled.

Chris set down the picture frame he was holding and turned to face her. He pulled his left hand out of his pocket and pushed back the sleeve of his hoodie to glance at the black plastic watch he was wearing.

“Just after nine,” Chris answered.

“Where's Mom and Travis?” she asked, finding it strange that neither of them had knocked on the door to say breakfast was ready and thank god they didn't. They'd probably want to know what the fuck Chris was doing in her room with the door shut.

“Dunno. Heard them go downstairs and leave the house about an hour ago.”

“And you didn't wake me?”

“You looked like you could use the sleep.”

He was probably right. She felt like utter shit, completely drained, weak.

“What have you been doing all this time?”

“Not much. Just chilling,” he said, shrugging. His hands were back in the pockets of his hoodie.

“Why didn't you go back to Nick's room after they left?”

He shrugged again and she could tell he was reaching for an excuse by the way his mouth opened and closed. He shrugged one last time and said, “Dunno, but I can leave now that you're awake.”

He crossed the room and reached for the doorknob.

“No wait!” she blurted, not sure what she was doing.

Chris raised an eyebrow at her.

“Thought you didn't want me in here anymore.”

“That's not what I meant.”

What did she mean?

Chris shook his head, “We should go down and find something to eat anyways.”

Down in the kitchen, Alicia sat at the table, her eyes fixated on a photo of her and Matt dressed up for prom that hung on the fridge, while Chris dug around in the cupboards for something to eat.

“Man, doesn't your mom have anything gluten-free?” Chris complained.

“Huh? What?” Alicia, mumbled, tearing her eyes away from the photo, “Oh, we have a few things. I'm the only one that eats that stuff and my mom refuses to buy it most of the time.”

“My mom only buys gluten-free. Says it's healthier.”

Chris closed the cupboard and looked at her expectantly. The chair scraped the linoleum as she stood up. She bent over and pushed aside boxes in one of the lower cupboards until she found the tiny blue box of her special gluten-free cereal.

“Here,” she said, slamming the box on the counter, “There's only a little left, but I'm feeling generous so we can share it.”

“Damn, wish we had some dairy-free milk to go with it.”

“Well, you're in luck, sunshine,” Alicia said with a smirk. She reached into a different cupboard and took out a juice box of soy milk.

She brought out two plastic orange bowls and divided the cereal and soy milk equally amongst them. They sat down together and began to eat in silence.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Chris asked with a mouthful of cereal. He pointed with his spoon at the picture on the fridge.

“Yeah. I mean, _was_ my boyfriend. His name was Matt.”

“Was? What happened?”

“He got sick,” she said sadly, “He became one of those things.”

“Oh,” he looked down into his half-empty bowl of cereal, “Did you see it? See it happen?”

She shook her head, “My mom wouldn't let me stay with him,” she slammed her spoon down into the bowl and stood up, “I should have went back, but Nick...”

“Hey, there was nothing you could do. He was bit right?”

There had to have been something she could have done and maybe there was something she could still do even if the thought of it terrified her. Without a word she grabbed her little tan backpack and opened the cutlery drawer. She took out the biggest knife she could find and shoved it in the bag which she hastily swung over her shoulder.

She left the house and hurried up the street without a word to Chris. The door to Matt's house stood open and creaking in the warm breeze. Inside, the air was hot and dry. The silence of the house unnerved her. She had never heard it so quiet. Before the disease broke out, the house was a hub of activity. Matt and their friends were usually always gathered in the kitchen begging Mr. Sale to make some of his famous fish tacos or California rolls. Matt's dad was an accomplished chef at a well known restaurant that was owned by one of those celebrity chefs on Food Network. Matt's mom was the head of the Community Art Project which was an organization that worked to fund public art projects around the city. She was always running back and forth between the office, gallery openings, and the house carrying a briefcase and with various documents and blueprints tucked under her arms.

A plan for a large geometric sculpture blew across the doorway as Alicia stepped inside. She called out a few times, but no one answered. Matt's parents must have went to find their relatives, either that or they were dead. She ducked into the kitchen. Everything was covered in a thin layer of dust, but nothing was out of place. She checked the living room which was also empty and slightly dusty. Matt's sketchbook still lay open on the coffee table. He had been drawing a portrait of her. Scratchy black lines formed an image of her frowning. She had been thinking about some stupid family dinner she had to attend with Travis and her mom at the time Matt had been drawing her.

Alicia closed the elegant black leather book and pushed it inside her bag. Back in the entrance hall, the door creaked and she jumped and spun around. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She pulled out the knife and held it in front of her, but nothing moved again. Silence. She lowered the knife and continued up the stairs. She covered her nose and mouth with her sleeve as she reached the landing. The smell of rot was overwhelming. Her stomach, which was still a mess from drinking the night before, did a tumble and the cereal she ate for breakfast came rushing back up her throat and onto the carpet. She wiped her mouth on the back of her sleeve and apologized to the Sales in her head for ruining their rug.

Matt's parents' bedroom was at the top of the landing. The door was cracked just a little bit. She stood outside it nervously and tapped on it. There was no answer once again. Something was buzzing on the other side of the door. Curiously, she pushed the door open.

A carpet of black flies covered two blanket shrouded figures lying side by side in the bed. A dozen or so prescription bottles sat empty on the nightstand.

Alicia was frozen to the spot. The scene was being burned into her brain and she didn't doubt she was going to have nightmares for years about the sight of this. She bent over and vomited several times. A hand on her back made her jump. She tightened her grip on the knife and spun around.

“Jesus, Chris! What the fuck are you doing here?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I followed you. Saw you leave with that knife. Didn't look good. Guess I was worried or something.”

“You can go back. I'm fine.”

She wasn't fine. Her fingers were shaking around the knife, her mouth still tasted of vomit and she hadn't realized it until Chris brushed a hand across her cheek, but she had been crying.

“Christ,” he muttered, his eyes widening as he took in the scene behind Alicia, “C'mon.”

He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out into the hallway, shutting the door behind them. She kept her eyes down, focused on the almost identical pairs of black sneakers she and Chris were both wearing. He had his hand on her upper arm and he was peering into her face nervously. A banging at the other end of the hallway caused both of them to jump.

“Let's go, Alicia. We shouldn't be here,” Chris said. She could hear the anxiety in his voice.

Images of street art cut from magazines fluttered as the white painted door that led to Matt's room shuddered and banged again.

“Matt?” his name fell from her lips without a thought. She knew he couldn't still be alive and she knew those things retained no trace of the people they were when they were alive. Yet some fluttering of hope quivered in her belly.

She shrugged off Chris' hand and moved towards the door. Her fingers closed around the knob.

“Matt?”

Something slammed against the door and she took a few steps back. Agitated growls came from behind the door and fingernails scraped the paint. The only sound in the hall was the sound of her and Chris' breathing. Her breath was coming in heavy pants. Her fingers still trembled around the knife.

After a few minutes the pounding on the door stopped. Alicia crept forward and gripped the door knob. This time, she threw it open. Matt rushed at her before she had a chance to move. He pinned her against the hallway wall, knocking the knife out of her hand and sending a canvas crashing to the floor. His hands were around her neck. She was gasping for air. Her fingernails dug into his wrists, tearing off ribbons of rotting flesh.

Matt's eyes were glazed over and they stared into hers with an empty hunger. The only thing she could hear was the sound of his teeth snapping, trying to get at her face. Time seemed to slow down. She couldn't move, couldn't think. Chris was calling her name over and over, but it sounded so distant, he might as well have been calling her from another planet.

Everything sped up. Chris' arms locked under Matt's armpits and around his shoulders and he pulled Matt off of her. Alicia stood there shaking, still unable to move. Chris was bouncing off the walls, trying to maintain control of Matt, but Matt probably outweighed him by a good fifty pounds and was fighting like hell to tear Chris apart.

The muscles in her legs unlocked and she stumbled forward kicking the knife. Alicia dropped to the floor and crawled over to where it had landed under a table. Matt was slamming Chris into walls and she could see looks of pain flash across his face every time his body collided with the hard drywall.

“Alicia, run! Get out of here!” he was begging over and over.

She looked at the knife in her hand and then back to Matt and back to Chris. Matt retained nothing of the person she had once loved and that was utterly heartbreaking. It felt like the end of the world more so than the actual end of the world did. Matt was dead and there was nothing that would change that. She couldn't go back in time and stop him from getting bitten. All she could do know was end the state he was trapped in.

Her legs felt like cement blocks as she moved forward, slowly, carefully, like if she stepped too hard the floor would break. Her knuckles had turned white around the handle of the knife. She glanced between Matt's face and the sharp blade. She didn't know how the hell to do this. She knew an injury to the head would stop the reanimated state, but she didn't know how to hold the knife, how to drive it in or where to. It wasn't that easy either. Matt still looked like Matt. He still had the same face she had caressed, kissed, rubbed her cheek against a hundred times. The tears had started to flow again. She couldn't put it through his eye, not the eyes that had so lovingly stared into hers a million times, watched her undress on more than one occasion. Where else could she stick him?

As if he could hear her thoughts, he tilted his head up slightly, revealing the soft flesh under his chin. She angled the knife and thrust it in under his jaw, praying the blade was long enough to hit his brain. Blood sprayed out and splattered the white t-shirt she was wearing. Matt made a strange little rattling gasp and stilled in Chris' arms. Chris gently lowered his body to the rug. Alicia's fingers were still wrapped around the knife which was dripping blood onto the floor. Her fingers loosened and the knife dropped, its sound muffled by the carpet.

Wet blood was soaking through her shirt and the feeling of it was making her skin crawl. She ripped the shirt off over her head and threw it as far from her body as she could.

A second later, Chris' arms were tangled around her back and hers were tangled around his. His hands were going up and down her back and sides and shoulders and neck, patting her like he was a cop checking her for weapons on one of those crappy reality police shows. Her hands moved more slowly, feeling him up, checking for any fabric that was damp with blood. Neither of their searches turned up any bites or injuries. Alicia let her hands fist into the back of his hoodie and laid her head on his shoulder.

She wasn't sure how long they stood like that. She was reluctant to let go and apparently so was he. Their breathing had slowed and they were more or less breathing in time with each other. She wasn't shaking anymore, but she still didn't feel mentally ok.

_Matt's dead. It's over. It's finished. When I leave here, I'm never going to see him again. It's ended. The door's shut._

Alicia repeated the thoughts over and over, until her tears dried up and her heart went numb.

When they finally broke apart, she was still standing there in her bra. Chris stared at her awkwardly for a minute, before unzipping his hoodie and handing it to her. She pulled it on and zipped it up.

Together, she and Chris left the house and she pulled the door firmly shut behind her, promising never to return. She knew it was going to be much harder to keep away in her mind, but she would fight as hard as she could to stop herself from drowning in those horrible thoughts.

They walked back up the street, hands in their pockets, not looking back. Chris kept shooting her nervous glances, like he thought any minute now she might melt into a puddle on the sidewalk and he'd have to frantically scoop her up before she disappeared down a storm drain.

“If you want to talk about it,” Chris started.

“No. Don't. I don't want to think about it,” Alicia muttered, “Just want to forget.”

Her hand slid out of her pocket and somehow caught in his. She shot a quick glance around the deserted street to make sure no one was watching her walk hand-in-hand with—her sort-of step brother? But he wasn't her step brother. He was just Chris—a kid she barely knew until a few months ago and even now she didn't know him that well. She probably wouldn't have given him a second look if the world hadn't ended and they hadn't wound up living in the same house.

“Hey, you remember that meme “Bad Luck Brian”?” Chris asked suddenly.

“Yeah, sure. Just don't forget to knock the cobwebs and blow the dust off before you bring that one out,” she said with a laugh.

“Pretty sure that meme was made about my dad. He always had the worst luck, especially when it came to dating and girls.”

“Oh yeah? Well he does seem pretty bumbling at the best of times. No offense.”

“None taken. He'd kill me if he knew I told you this, but when he was in high school he went on this big camping trip. He was looking forward to it all year. He went off with this one girl that he was in love with. She had finally agreed to have sex with him, but they had to go way out in the woods. And long story short, they didn't have a blanket or anything, they just got naked on the ground and my dad got bit by a snake and had to be airlifted out of there.”

Alicia doubled over laughing, picturing a geeky teenaged Travis being airlifted out of the woods naked. She couldn't stop and she was almost hyperventilating. The laughter was becoming painful and she could feel the sadness poking holes in it. Chris had stopped walking and turned to face her.

“You're kind of pretty when you laugh. You should do it more often,” he told her.

“Kind of?”

“You know what I meant,” he grumbled.

They stood there awkwardly staring at each other for what seemed like an hour before they started walking again, still holding hands. She let go a few houses down from hers incase their parents were around. Her mom and Travis met them in the driveway. They were loading up boxes into the cars.

“Where have you two been?” her mom asked, “And what's all over your face, Alicia?”

Alicia caught a glimpse of herself in the shiny reflection of the car window. A rusty red splatter spilled across her left cheek. She and Chris looked at each other reaching for excuses.

“We, uh, just went for a walk. Nothing better to do. You know, no internet and all,” Chris laughed nervously.

“Well, don't wander off again. It's not safe. We're getting out of here. Go upstairs and get your stuff packed and be ready to leave in an hour,” Madison said.

Alicia hurried inside, without a word. She rushed up the stairs and into the bathroom. She went to turn on the tap for the sink, but it didn't work. She swore under her breath and slammed her hair brush on the counter. Chris appeared in the doorway holding a rag and a half empty bottle of water.

“Hey, it's ok. Sit,” he said, gesturing towards the counter.

Alicia considered telling him to fuck off, but her thoughts softened when she saw the look of concern on his face. She pulled herself up onto the counter and watched him as he poured a bit of water onto the rag and set the bottle aside. He tilted her head to one side by sliding a few fingers under her chin. He brushed the rag over her cheek, slowly, carefully. His brow was furrowed in concentration like he was trying to solve the world's hardest math equation. He pulled the cloth away and examined her face. His hand still cupped her chin.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He was leaning in closer.

“Dunno,” he admitted, but he didn't stop.

She felt a strange electricity crackle between the two of them and her stomach fluttered. Her eyes closed.

“Kids!” Madison yelled up the stairs, “I don't hear the sounds of packing! Let's get a move on!”

Chris' hand dropped to his side and he took a few steps back.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I should go. My stuff is packed, but I still need to bring it down to the car.”

“Yeah, sure,” she muttered back, still in a daze.

“I'll come back up and help you pack in a few.”

“Good. Great,” she said stupidly.

After he disappeared down the hall, Alicia took the bottle and splashed what remained on her face. What a fucking day. First, Matt's house, and now whatever the hell was going on between her and Chris. What _was_ going on with her and Chris anyway? She shook it off. She didn't have time to think about it. She needed to pack.

Chris returned after a few minutes like he said and helped her pack the few things she wanted to bring. She scraped all the pictures and frames into a box and kicked it to the back of the closet. She took only an armful of clothes—two pairs of jeans, three pairs of shorts, five t-shirts, and a pair of yoga pants, plus a few pairs of panties and a spare bra. She looked around her room one last time. She couldn't decide if her lack of desire to bring more stuff was because she thought this whole thing would blow over and she'd be able to come back or if she was just now realizing how utterly useless most of her possessions were.

Alicia loaded her pathetic little suitcase in the trunk of her mom's car and she and Chris squeezed in the backseat together next to a mound of her mom's clothes that had been hastily thrown on the seat hangers and all.

No explanation of where they were going was given. Her mom and Travis sat in the front talking in hushed voices using words that were obviously codes for other words. Alicia thought they were being ridiculous. She and Chris were nearly adults. They deserved to be in on the conversation. She felt too exhausted and drained to fight though. Instead she leaned her head back against the seat and shut her eyes. Chris' hand found hers were it lay between their thighs and he curled his fingers around it. When she didn't pull it away, he threaded his fingers through hers, careful to keep their hands hidden.

Whatever this was, Alicia decided it was alright. It was nice to not have to put down Matt alone. It was comforting knowing the person next to her had shared in that horrific experience and together they would get through this.

 


End file.
